Reconciliation
by Uyanga
Summary: What if Peter and Edmund never reconciled after Edmund's return from the White Witch? What if they grew up estranged?
1. Chapter 1

**Reconciliation**

Chapter One: The Unwelcome Visitor

* * *

A squire ran up as the weary rider dismounted.

"Welcome home, sire," he said as he reached for the reins.

"Thank you, Bruno." The rider nodded.

Peter observed the courtyard. The entire court, dryads and nymphs, fauns and centaurs, Beasts and humans-_his_ people, he thought with fierce pride-had come out to welcome the High King home. They stood a respectful distance away, nodding and bowing in greeting. On top of the stairs were his sisters. He looked up at them with affection, but saw something that wiped the grin clean off his face.

A dark haired young man stood between Lucy and Susan, his discomfort visible even to Peter standing below.

The Duke of Lantern Waste.

Mindful of the courtiers, Peter schooled his expression into one of neutrality. Inside, waves of anger were pulsing through him; as the eldest in his absence, it was Susan who should have been standing in the middle, the position traditionally occupied by the High King.

_What in Aslan's name is he doing here?_

"Welcome home, brother." Susan said. They embraced briefly, keeping some distance between them. Susan nodded to the other two to her left. Edmund gave a stiff bow as Peter passed. The High King's complete lack of response went unnoticed, as Lucy chose the exact same moment to fly into Peter's arms.

He lifted her up and spun her around and around, breaking the somber atmosphere.

"Peter!" she cried, her soprano laugh harmonizing with his bass.

The court cheered and applauded, as though they had been given permission to express emotion. Susan smiled one of her rare smiles. The High King was home and all was merry.

The one person who did not share in the happiness was Duke Edmund. He hung back in the shadows, unsmiling and unnoticed by the others.

oOoOoOo

"I say, it _is_ good to have you back, Peter."

Lucy sat on Peter's bed, waiting for him finish dressing for the evening.

"I'm glad to be home, too. I've never felt so drained after a campaign."

Tonight, Susan was hosting a formal ball to celebrate Peter's safe return. Peter held up two golden belts for Lucy's inspection. She pointed at the one in Peter's left hand, the one with the golden Lion.

He straightened his blue and gold tunic and began to put on the belt.

"We didn't know what to do," said Lucy, frowning. "When we heard that you had been _killed_-"

"A careless rumor spread by idle gossipers." Peter said, adjusting the heavy belt. "If the affair had been anything worth reporting home, you would have heard it from one of my men. Have you seen the silver brush?"

"It's there on the drawer. I can't believe you thought an attempt on your life wasn't worth telling us. What happened, exactly? All I've heard are garbled versions told by travelers, each more unlikely than the last."

"We were camping for the night just south of the Shribble River. Someone disguised as a soldier poisoned my wine. Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on your perspective I suppose, the Terebinthian wine was sent to Orieus's regiment by accident and I received the Archenlanden mead. Two men died on the spot. Someone mentioned seeing a suspicious figure coming out of the supplies wagon where the wine was kept. After investigating, we discovered he'd stolen a horse and ran. The Cats caught his scent and gave chase but he jumped into the river and was swept away by the current. That's it. We never found out who it was or who was behind it."

Lucy's eyes were wide. "But who would want to poison you? The Giants?"

Peter snorted. "They lack the mental agility required to plan such a thing. Whoever went to the trouble of having a man to disguise as a soldier and poison my wine was definitely human."

"You're certain it was a human? Do you have an idea who it was?"

Peter did but he was highly reluctant to voice it aloud to Lucy.

She sighed and leaned back on her arms. "Well, you're home now. All is well that ends well. Susan and I will sleep soundly tonight."

For a while neither of them spoke. The only sound in the room was the sound of Peter polishing his boots. He had valets for this kind of thing, but he preferred to do it himself when he could.

He could see Lucy out of the corner of his eye. She was biting her lip and deciding whether she should say something on her mind. And right now, there could only be one thing on her mind. _Don't say it_, he silently willed her. _Let's not talk about him..._

"He-he came three days ago."

Peter threw down the rag.

"So?" He hoped his voice sounded as unfriendly and discouraging as he felt about the subject. But Lucy was not one to be deterred. She could be as stubborn as he was when she wanted to be.

"I think it was because of the rumors. The whole country was in a panic, not knowing whether to believe them or not. If only you'd sent back word saying you were all right-" she glared at her brother but he was oblivious. "I think he wanted to make sure you were-"

"Make sure I was dead?" he supplied.

"No! Make sure you were _alive_! He told me so himself. You should have seen how frantic he was when he came galloping-"

Peter snorted derisively. "Why would he want me alive? Of course he'd like it if I died. He has everything to gain from it."

And if he was right, Edmund had done much more than come running to Cair Paravel hoping the High King had been assassinated. He'd played an active part in trying to make it happen.

"Peter, it's been so long."

_So, she was going to bring the old subject up was she?_

"Yes. Six years, in fact. There is no way Edmund and I could ever get along again. And frankly, I can't remember a time when we did."

"Where did all this come from?" Lucy wondered. "It's silly to have all this hate for nothing."

"For nothing? You call betraying your family nothing?"

"He made a mistake, he was young-"

"And you were even younger when you had to join the battle against the Fell Beasts. The army _he _sent against us."

"Now you're exaggerating Peter," she said furiously.

"Am I?" he yelled, growing red in his anger.

"He wasn't acting of his own free will; he was being kept as a prisoner-"

"I don't think so Lucy. He _knew _the consequences of his action when he refused Orieus's help and ran back to his precious Jadis. Just as he _knew_ the consequences of betraying _me_!"

Lucy was nearly in tears.

"He's changed Peter. He's not the same anymore-"

Peter wasn't listening. "He made his wants very clear later on too. When he ran off to rule Lantern Waste all by himself-"

"He didn't, you as good as exiled him there-"

"And I don't understand why he's showed up in my absence, harboring plans against my life no doubt-"

"Peter! On what _proof_-"

"-when I've good as let him rule his own country for the past five years!"

"Sire?"

Peter and Lucy spun around in alarm. Edmund stood just outside the open door.

He looked like he had been standing there for some time.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: Vallio

* * *

_Peter and Lucy spun around in alarm. Edmund stood just outside the open door. He looked like he had been standing there for some time._

_._

.

.

"They are awaiting you downstairs. The dance is about to begin."

Lucy was visibly flustered. "W-we will be right down, Ed-I mean Duke," she finished, darting a look at Peter.

She hastily took her disheveled hair out of its bun and began to comb it. Peter cleared his throat and turned so he wouldn't give in to his anger and berate Edmund on his rash decision to come up to his rooms without permission. And why was he here to deliver the message instead of one of the servants anyway?

Lucy tugged at her hair, making angry noises whenever the narrow comb tangled in her golden locks. Peter wished Edmund would go ahead. Better yet, he wished Edmund wouldn't attend the dance at all. The courtiers wouldn't ask where he was. They wouldn't care if Duke Edmund wasn't at the dance welcoming his brother home. For them the relationship between the two brothers had always been like this. Edmund was still the traitor, mistrusted by all outside Lantern Waste and king in name only because of an ancient prophesy.

Lucy finished redoing her bun. She straightened, smoothing her billowing skirt in a manner that reminded Peter strongly of Susan.

"I am ready, my Lord," Lucy said in a formal tone. The one she always used with Peter in public.

"Then let us go, my Lady."

He gallantly held out his arm. No one would have guessed they had been arguing so fiercely a minute ago.

No one except Edmund, who had obviously overheard the whole thing.

.

_Well, did I lie? _thought Peter unhappily, walking down the main staircase with the seemingly relaxed Lucy on his arm. A much more uncomfortable looking Edmund followed them several steps behind. _Why did she have to bring the past up tonight of all nights? This man could be plotting to kill me at this very moment for all I know, yet she keeps defending him._

The herald blew a trumpet when he saw Peter coming and the footmen opened the oak doors to the Great Hall. Lively music filled his ears and he resigned himself to an evening of dancing and pretending all was well.

oOo

As expected, the event went as smoothly as everything planned by Susan did. Everyone was in a good mood. Lucy and Susan were on the dance floor so often Peter hadn't managed to exchange a single word with them all evening.

Under normal circumstances he would have taken each of his sisters for a dance and asked several of the court ladies as well. Tonight, however, was dedicated to watching Edmund out of the corner of his eye. His brother spent most of the evening sitting in a dark alcove, foot tapping along to the music and watching the dancers with veiled interest.

He watched Lucy approach Edmund and engage him in conversation. Feeling irritated, he got up from his throne and went to see what they were talking about.

"Come, let's dance," he heard Lucy saying as he drew closer. She pulled on Edmund's arm.

"No, thank you. I don't dance. At all." He extricated his arm from her grip.

She continued to cajole him.

"If Queen Lucy wants to dance, you should do so." Peter called from behind Lucy.

Edmund started a bit when he saw Peter.

For one brief second his eyes narrowed, and his lips curled ever so slightly at the corners.

Instinctively, Peter's hand went to his sword hilt...

Lucy did not notice. She was still beaming from ear to ear.

"The High King wants you to join in." She all but dragged him out of the alcove. "You don't mind me addressing you as Edmund in private do you?"

"No, no. Of course not-" His expression was pleasant again.

And Peter slowly relaxed his hand.

"Oh, wonderful! And you can call me Lucy, of course."

They disappeared into the throng, leaving Peter to sigh and wondering where Vallio was.

As though he had read his king's mind, the captain appeared, seeming to materialize out of thin air.

His official title was Captain of High King Peter's Personal Guards but Peter had no use for bodyguards. Vallio specialized in espionage and covert missions.

"You summoned me?" he drawled in his native Lone Islands accent.

"Not explicitly no, but I had a mind to talk to you anyway." Peter looked at the skinny man in amusement. Vallio was eccentric, to say the least, but over the years he had become one of Peter's most trusted men.

"Then it is just as well I felt the urge to come to your side. It concerns Duke Edmund and his plans on your life, naturally."

Peter pressed his lips together.

"I haven't seen you once since returning this morning. How did you know?"

The other man turned to look at Peter, eyebrows raised.

"I learned of it from Ronan the centaur. How did _you_ know, majesty?"

"I speculated. Surely you heard the rumors that I had died on the battle field?"

"Ah, yes." Vallio said softly. "The court was in…quite a state."

"Well, the truth is, I was not in much danger on the battlefield. An unidentified soldier however, attempted to poison my drink while we were camping. He threw himself into the Shribble before we could question him on his master but-"

"You have reasons to suspect your brother of being behind the matter." Vallio finished for him.

"Naturally," Peter said. He was watching the dancers. Lucy had succeeded in loosening Edmund up and now they were spinning round and round to an energetic folk song. "What was that about Ronan?"

"Oh, him. He observed the night skies when the rumor reached Cair Paravel, to see if they were true. The stars assured him they weren't but they did also say that your life would soon be in danger from a knight without a coat of arms."

"Without a coat of arms? That _must_ be a reference to Edmund!"

Edmund did not belong to any knightly order.

Vallio nodded. "I am inclined to think so too, your Majesty. Someone wanted to murder you but he also did not want to raise suspicions. He waited till you went to war. You are," he hesitated, "well, the people have learned to love you, shall we say, so the list of possible suspects is not very long. If I can be so bold, I would venture to say there is only one person on that list."

"But who would believe me without proof? I told Lucy what I just told you but she wouldn't hear of the possibility of the duke being involved." He thought about their fight and frowned.

"So what now, your Majesty?" murmured the spy. "You could throw the duke in prison right this minute. It would be within your power and very easy, as he is defenseless and alone. It wouldn't do your reputation any good, though."

"No, it wouldn't." Peter agreed. "I can't act unless I have proof. Which is precisely the reason I wished to talk with you."

Vallio raised his eyebrows. "I suppose I am to take a trip to Lantern Waste, then?"

"You will do no such thing. You will suddenly fall ill and leave for the warm waters of the south. And I will send the dear duke home so he can think of a new plan now that his previous one has failed."

Peter scanned the crowd. He'd lost sight of Lucy.

"And then you will summon him in a few days- a reason can always be found- so that I and my small group of trusted men can safely search for proof of his treachery." concluded Vallio, rubbing his hands together. "Excellent plan, Majesty."

"As I said, you will spend a few weeks enjoying the warm springs."

The musicians played the final few notes and took a bow. The ball was finally drawing to a close.

"I must go see Susan," said Peter. "See to your preparations, Vallio."

Vallio bowed his head. "Of course, Majesty. I will start tonight."

Peter found his sisters and Edmund standing together before the thrones. This time, Edmund saw him coming and drew to the side.

"I thank you for the evening, my Lady," he told Susan, pressing her hand to her lips. "It was simply superb."

Susan gave one of her gentle smiles that were so rarely seen. "I'm glad it pleased you, sir."

The courtiers respectfully made way for their royalty to leave first. Peter led the way with Susan on his arm. Lucy and Edmund followed. He could hear him saying something and Lucy laughing but he couldn't make out the words in the din.

Once outside, Edmund turned to Peter and excused himself in a stiff, stilted manner, so different from the way he had behaved with Lucy. The two queens bade Peter goodnight, insisting they would go up to their rooms alone.

Peter noticed Lucy wasn't meeting his eyes and scowled before going up the stairs by himself.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three: Morning

* * *

When Peter went down to breakfast the next morning Susan, Lucy, and Edmund were already seated at the table.

"Morning, Peter. Have you slept well?" Susan said amicably in answer to his 'Good Morning'. Edmund rose slightly in greeting and Lucy said nothing at all.

Save for Lucy's occasional questions and Edmund's one word answers, they ate in silence.

"Are you returning today, duke?" Susan inquired.

He looked up from his uneaten porridge. "Yes, after this."

Peter pushed his plate aside and stood up. "I wish you well on your journey home. As for you two, it is time to open court for the day. I'll go change."

Ignoring Susan's dismayed look he turned and left.

Peter's valet had left his court clothes on the bed, and he began to change.

He heard the door open and close.

"There is no need to clean while I am in the room."

"I'm not the maid." said Lucy. "Edmund's leaving right now."

"Good. Would you hand me my crown, Lu?"

She crossed the room to the stand and lifted the golden crown off its red pillow.

"I don't imagine you came all the way up here to tell me something I already know." he said.

"No, I didn't." She handed him the crown. "I came to warn you. If anything happens to the Duke from between here to Beaversdam, I am holding you personally responsible."

Peter gaped.

"Do you think me capable of sinking so low?"

Lucy continued as if she hadn't heard. "I heard your far-fetched theory yesterday and I know what kind of man you are. I will not have you harm an innocent man without proof of any wrongdoing."

"How do you know there is no proof?" Peter challenged. "And how can you be sure that my theory is far-fetched? Just because you may have danced with him once or twice do you know the duke better than me?"

Lucy shook her head. "Thanks to you, High King, I don't know my brother at all. But I do know this: if Edmund wanted you dead you would been dead a _long_ time ago!"

There was a very pregnant pause as Lucy stared defiantly up at Peter.

"So he's Edmund now is he?" It was a weak retort but the safest one he had.

"He's my brother. It is only natural I call him by his name."

"He's a duke. It's a matter of precedence!"

Lucy snorted. "Rank and precedence only matter so much to you, _High King_. And anyway, he's not a mere duke. He's a king."

"Not while I am alive!" Peter snapped, thinking of the mission he'd assigned Vallio yesterday.

Lucy fixed him with a steely stare.

"Do you disobey Aslan? Do you deny that he crowned all four of us as kings and queens here in this very castle?"

"W-well, no, of course not." He stuttered. He hadn't thought of it that way before.

"Then don't deny the fact Edmund is a king of Narnia, High King. You may be able to forbid him sitting on his rightful throne, you may confine his authority to Lantern Waste, you may raise their taxes and refuse to send aid but don't you _dare_ deny him the title the Lion gave him!"

Peter opened his mouth but he had no answer. In all these years he had never stopped to think that Aslan had made Edmund a king. He had been able to avoid the trouble his brother presented by, more or less, exiling him to Lantern Waste, in the name of giving him the land to rule. He would never challenge Aslan's decision, but then that would mean there was a reason the traitor had been allowed to become king, wouldn't it?

"I wish you could see how much this is hurting us, Peter." Lucy suddenly whispered. "Do you know why Susan is so distant with you? Do you even notice? Or, do you think that's how it should be because you are the High King?" Her eyes began to shine with unshed tears. "How did our family ever become like this?

"Right now you think your own brother is planning to kill you and I am afraid he will not make it home safely because of you. And the worst part is, I can't say for certain he is innocent of the crime you are accusing him of. I am begging you, open your eyes to the truth, Peter. You've lost Edmund over something you can barely remember. You've as good as lost Susan and if you keep this behavior up, you'll lose me too."

And with that Lucy ran out, before Peter could so much as utter a syllable.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four: Lantern Waste

* * *

Edmund rode for three days. Phillip was as eager to return home as his rider and kept up a fast pace with little urging from Edmund. Only when they entered the Lantern Waste woods did they slow down. Here, Edmund dismounted.

Phillip was tired.

"We shouldn't have gone," Phillip fretted as they walked. "Rookwit will have your head."

Edmund shifted the saddle so that it fit more comfortably under his arm.

"Whats done is done. I'll just have to deal with whatever Rookwit has in store for me."

"You be sure to tell him it was your idea Edmund," the Horse grumbled. "I was merely following your orders."

Edmund assured him that he would.

"And stop dragging the reins," Phillip added crossly. "Who knows when I'll need it again, considering your wild moods."

Edmund laughed but he carefully pulled up the leather reins.

Now that he was back in his own lands he was relaxed and in a good mood.

Aside from the ridiculously high tax the High King imposed (the amount of which was raised every year, although Edmund had never had trouble meeting it) he was as good as a king here. The High King did not meddle in his internal affairs the way he did with Susan and Lucy's domains. As they walked through the narrow paths of the wood, people came out to greet him. Squirrels offered him nuts; foxes divulged the latest gossip; the birds competed with each other for his attention. It was a far cry from the stifling atmosphere of Cair Paravel.

When he arrived at his summer lodge, an old wooden mansion, the workers, mostly dwarves and dryads, shouted out greetings.

He grinned.

It was good to be home.

"Oi! Edmund!"

Or not.

An angry black dwarf was marching towards him.

Phillip trotted away, muttering something to the effect of "_It wasn't my fault_."

"Hullo, Rookwit."

Rookwit the dwarf jabbed a gnarled finger into Edmund's stomach. "You've gotta lot to explain, Edmund."

"Yes, the journey was fine, thank you for asking. Is everything fine here too?" Edmund said.

Rookwit was not amused.

"You've gotta lotta nerve runnin' off straigh' into the dragon's den withou tellin' me." groused the dwarf.

"Whereas running off straight into the dragon's den _after_ telling you would have been an infinitely better option." said Edmund. "Come, let's go in; we're causing a scene."

oOoOoOo

"Welcome home, your Grace!" a young nymph called from the dining room.

"Thank you, Esmelleda. All is well here?"

"No trouble at all, your Grace. Lord Rookwit kept everything in perfect order."

Rookwit followed Edmund into his sitting room, grumbling all the way.

Edmund collapsed into the armchair by the fireplace, toeing off his dusty boots.

"Why'd you do it?" Rookwit asked.

Edmund groaned. "Rookwit, my dear, dear friend, I've ridden nonstop for three days. A little _patience_."

"If you're sore, it's your fault," the dwarf said dismissively. "Enough stallin' from you. Now tell."

Edmund sat with his eyes screwed shut.

Rookwit crossed his arms and waited.

"I suppose," Edmund said after a while, "I was worried."

Rookwit made a disgruntled noise. "Worried abou' what?"

"Worried that the rumors were true."

"Whas' it to you if the rumors were true, eh, Edmund? Better for you an' me that way."

Edmund shook his head. "I don't know, Rookwit. I heard from one of the minotaurs that the High King was dead and I lost my head. I didn't think."

"How'd they treat you? Try to accuse you of any funny business?"

"He was indifferent always." Edmund feigned nonchalance when he added, "Lucy was sweet. And Queen Susan was-er- somewhat gracious."

Rookwit huffed. "Cold woman, she is. No emotions she has. Say they call her the gentle 'cause they can't think of a better name for her."

"She wasn't always that way." Edmund said quietly.

Rookwit cleared his throat. "So the king still alive and kickin'? Heard what happen' to him?"

"Lucy said someone in the army camp tried to poison him. Didn't catch him though. He threw himself into the river. Probably he's dead by now."

"He's dead," the Dwarf echoed. "Anythin' else?"

"That's all I heard."

"Don't run off on me again, Edmund. D'you know how foolish you were? Poppin' up while everyone was crying and screaming abou' a murder? The king don't have a high opinion of you. He could have accused you of the poisoning and imprisoned you and none of us would have been the wiser until the king's men came to collect your property."

"I never saw it that way," Edmund said thoughtfully.

"Everyone with a brain saw it tha' way," scoffed Rookwit. "I bet the _he _entertained himself with the idea. He'd like the mines here, wouldn't he?"

"I won't do something like this again," Edmund promised.

Rookwit nodded, finally uncrossing his arms. "At least you had the common sense to take Phillip with you."

Edmund nodded.

"He wanted me to take some men along and I wanted to go quietly. The compromise was I ride him."

He stared down at his hands, thinking.

"I know you miss them sometimes, Edmund." Rookwit's voice was kind. And there was an almost elder brotherly look of affection in his eyes. "But the past is the past. You did all you could to make up for it, and if it isn't enough for High King Peter the Magnificent there ain't anything more you can do."

Edmund nodded without looking up.

"You're doin' a good job runnin' these woods." Rookwit told him. "There's markets and there's work for anybody who wants work. The Animals, the Humans, the Dwarves, everyone's happy and fed. Nobody's freezing to death in the winter. And we're a great happier than the rest of the nation, I reckon. It is a good thing for the people that the past happened."

The dwarf patted his friend on the shoulder.

"It's a good thing the past happened." Edmund repeated.

"I reckon so, Ed. You're ten times the king your brother is. You wouldn't have been able to build Lantern Waste from the ground up if you were stuck at Cair Paravel under his thumb."

He sniffed the air.

"I smell Maella's roast beef. Change your boots and let's go down to dinner, young man."

oOoOoOo

That night Edmund mulled over the day's events in bed. His reason for having galloping across the country seemed pathetically stupid to him now. As his best friend had said, what _was_ it to him if Peter died? Why did he feel such dread whenever he heard that Peter was injured or ill or had nearly been assassinated which, considering the type of man he was, was often.

_I know why_ a voice that sounded suspiciously like Rookwit's spoke in the back of his head.

_You're afraid he _will _die one day and then you'll _have _to become king._

_I wouldn't even if it was offered to me _he thought_. Power doesn't suit me. I've proven that again and again. It's why I depend on Rookwit to guide me. So I don't mess up again._

_But your friends don't think so,_ the voice said._They think you make a fine ruler. They'd like you to have more power. If you couldn't be good to your family you could at least be good to your friends…_

_No, _Edmund thought. _That's the one thing I can't do. Now let me sleep._

He clapped his hands over his ears as though this would stop him having absurd conversations with his own consciousness. Eventually sleep came to him but he tossed and turned all night. He woke twice, each time from dreams of poison and nefarious plots and Black Dwarves and High Kings.

* * *

AN:

I was going to upload this last week. Talk about amnesia.

Anyway, sorry if the plotline isn't really moving forward. I'd like to upload the next chapter this week _and just move on_, but I'm really busy lately. I've decided to make (positive) changes to the plot here and there, and so I need to heavily edit or even rewrite what I've already written. (95 percent of the fic is finished being written, 5 percent is still in draft form) If I upload the next chapter this week then I might not have enough time to re-edit the one after that. The next one is fine the way it is, but chapter six is where I have to start to making changes.

Well, whatever, ignore my ramblings. Thanks for reading, supporting and following! :D

U


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